# [RESULTS IN] Pokemon Creepypasta Contest



## RespectTheBlade (Oct 3, 2010)

(Hope I put this in the right place....)

In this thread, somebody (Charizard2k) had the idea to hold a contest involving the creepypasta stuff, and I agreed to put it up. So here it is:

*Pokemon Halloween Creepypasta Contest!​*
Entries can be submitted in this thread from now until October 26th. On October 27th, people can PM me their vote for their favorite story/picture. Results will be announced on October 31st. (Of course.) 

*Rules:* anyone can enter. If you've posted a story or picture in the "Creepy Pokemon Shit" thread, you CANNOT use it here. Also, you CANNOT use a story or picture you just copypasted off the internet, it has to be one that you actually wrote or drew. In the event of a tie, a second voting will occur, and the winner of that vote is the ..... well, winner. (this following thing is important) *All stories and art must be unique and not borrowing plot basis or ideas from other "creepypasta". This is a form of artwork and if you refer to Rule # 11 this is bad and against the rules to use someone else's work or ideas.*

*Categories:* There will be two categories of creepypasta- Art and Stories.

*Entering Stories and Art:* Please post your stories and art here in this thread, as it will make it easier for me to link stuff at the top of the thread. Any type of creepypasta involving pokemon, whether the actual games or something based in the Pokemon universe, will be accepted. It has to be vaugely related to pokemon in someway, or it will not qualify. Any art or stories posted in a thread should be given a title. Again, this will make it easier on voting and links. A maximum of two stories and two pictures can be submitted per person. 

*Voting:* October 27th through October 30th, PM me (FallOut Blade) with your votes for the creepypasta contest. Anyone can vote, even if they haven't submitted in the thread. If you have submitted a story or picture, it is strongly recommended that you do vote. You have 1 vote in each category. Please do not vote for yourself. 

*Prizes:* None whatsoever, except bragging rights and personal glory. oh, and article 1a.

Article 1a: Anyone who competes in the competition and does not win may take one of these ribbons, made by Blastoise:





 for art, and 

	
	
		
		
	


	




 for writing

*Current Entries:*

Stories: 
1. Revenge by Mawile
2. Glitch City by Barubu
3. Game Love by Enkoe
4. Moon Garden by Verne
5. The Forgotten by ole_schooler
6. Traitor by Pwnemon
7. Fox by wolftamer9
8. A Realm of Inexistence by Ryubane
9. Fame by FallOut Blade
10. Gastlyhauntergengar by Risingbadge

Art:
1. Mew by Big Red Cherry Bomb


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## Phantom (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon creepypasta Contest*

Yay I helped! *does the "I helped" dance*

I'm gonna get writing!!!!


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon creepypasta Contest*

As will I. (I mean, I'm gonna start writing. possibly. I think I'm in the process of making one, but it's hard to do when you've just watched Mythbusters. (Best Quote ever "Quack, damn you."- Jamie Hyneman, talking to a duck.))


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## Coloursfall (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon creepypasta Contest*

OKAY I GIVE i'm entering the art devision.







here have a mew. i don't even know.


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## ultraviolet (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon creepypasta Contest*

Moved to Other Creativity (I was going to put it in Writing somewhere but you're doing art too so). 

I'm really looking forward to reading all the entries, it looks cool. :O Good luck guys!


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon creepypasta Contest*

Thanks. 

(and Big Red Cherry Bomb, do you have a title? if not, that's okay.)


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## Coloursfall (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon creepypasta Contest*

Eh, I just called it "Mew" on dA, so. I guess you could call it that. Or Fetusmew. I dunno.


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## Mewtwo (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

I'll definately do a story; I may do art to accompany it, though.


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## octobr (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

I suppose you want ~new~ content?


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Yes. If it's been posted in the "creepy pokemon shit" thread, or it's on the internet and you didn't make it, it doesn't count.


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## .... (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Revenge​ 
---​ 
I had hacked my copy of Diamond beyond belief. I had an invisible shiny Bulbasaur, a Bad EGG, you name a glitch, I had it. I could walk through walls, I had all 493 shiny pokemon, and I even had a ???-type Arceus. I had all the badges and a team of 6 level 100 pokemon within 5 minutes of playing. 

It was freaking awesome.

Every day, I'd bring my Action Replay, Diamond, and my DS over to at least one of my friends' houses. They all begged for me, the hacking genius, to give them level 100 shiny Mews and whatnot.

Except for one.

She constantly begged me to do something different. She always told me that one day, I'd go insane from something that I created. It would be my worst nightmare. That my beloved pokemon would disappear only for glitches to appear.

Yeah, right. Like I actually _cared_ about those things who were basically my experiments. Those things whose only use were to catch me glitches.

---

One day, I had brought my stuff over to her house. She watched with a frown as I walked through walls, skipped the Elite 4, and take the precise steps needed to go to Flower Paradise.

I wandered in the grass. A pokemon then appeared as I glanced down.

It was a Venonat.

"Just catch it," she said with a scowl.

I took out one of my 999 Master Balls and caught it.

As I went to nickname it something insulting, I heard a sound coming from somewhere.

"NO."

I glanced over at my friend as she was curled up in the fetal position.

"Not again..." she mumbled.

I looked down at the screen. It said "VENONAT would like to learn Heart Swap! Teach VENONAT Heart Swap?"

I press "yes".

I was suddenly engaged in a battle. I had no pokemon, only myself.

"VENONAT used Heart Swap!
You blacked out!"

When my character awoke, its overworld sprite was that of a Venonat. Beside me was my character's sprite.

When I spoke to my character, I was freaked out.
"Revenge. Such a sweet word."

My palms were sweating and my heart was pounding.

"Your Pokemon deserve better than this. Revenge is imminent."

A battle appeared on the screen. It was me (a Venonat) against all six of my slaves-- I mean pokemon.

First was my shiny Torterra, who knew Frenzy Plant, Hydro Cannon, Blast Burn, and Judgement. 

"Torterra used Judgement!
...
Torterra got its revenge on you!"

I blacked out.

---​ 
When I woke up, my Action Replay lay in pieces at the bottom of my trash bin and I was home again.

As I brought up the title screen of Diamond, instead of "continue" it said, "Goodbye. We got our revenge and did what we must."

To this day, I barely remember what happened.

All I remember is my best friend curled up, crying as my Torterra used Judgement.

---​ 
I never saw her again.
​


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## octobr (Oct 3, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

No I mean. If I've written it before and it wasn't in that thread would you accept it.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 4, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

OH. Sure, that's fine. I look foward to seeing your story.


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## Wargle (Oct 4, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Lighthouse creepypasta


It all started when I lost my pokewalker for my Pokemon Heart Gold game I was depressed because I had a level 100 dragonite on it. After a few months I decided get a new one. I went on eBay and tried to find one. After a few minutes I managed to find a Pokéwalker and HeartGold for $20 with free shipping from someone a friend recommened who lives in Texas, but they wanted the money to be sent to an address in Australia, even though the seller is American which seemed a little odd, but I sent it anyway. 
It arrived about a week later. When I opened the box I first noticed the pull-out tag was missing, so it was used, but I didn’t care so I pressed the middle button. The screen of the usual pokewalker screen came up, but there was an Unnown being walked, so I transferred it to the game I bought. When I did my DS shut off, so I turned it back on. 


When I started the game it seemed normal but there was no intro which I find enjoyable and I always watch it so I was wondering why it didn’t start, but I just thought it was a glitch so I continued. Next, there was music on the page where they show Ho-oh flying, but I did what I did last time and continued. The next scene where you get the options was missing, so it just put me in the game. 

When I started my game was what seemed to be the old gold version for the GBC (gameboy color), and I was in the lighthouse on the bottom floor. I instantly checked the pokemon and there were none. Odd. I put the game down and tried to go back to the seller's website but it was gone, and I located the seller's Shipping From: address on Google Earth and it was an empty lot. At this point I was freaking out, but I picked up the game and continued. 

I tried to exit the lighthouse but the door wasn’t letting me leave instead giving me a message saying “kill them” written in unknown. I checked my player status and everything was at zero and my name was Kill Them. I decided to try to get to the top of the lighthouse. When I went to the next room it was nothing but doors on every wall. I decided to go trough one, and when I went through it there was I painting. I clicked on it and a very detailed picture of Professor Oak shot at least five times laying on his back in a pool of blood. I hit the off switch and turned it back on and the same picture came up, so I had no choice but to continue. I pressed B and the image disappeared, and I left the room. 

I was greeted once again by the many doors and went in another. 
Once again there was a painting and I clicked it, and it showed once again a very detailed picture but this time it was a child maybe 7 hanging from his arms without a shirt with a huge gaping wound and his organs were on the floor, and he was missing his eyes. To add to the horrible scene there was a very faint screaming of a child. I left the room scared to death, and entered another door, the next painting were like the other ones (very detailed), and it was Brock dead in a chair with his head in his lap. That is all I can remember before I left in fear, the next was a child, I couldn’t even tell the gender. It was like all the other child but more disturbing and detailed then the other. This disturbing pattern continued until there were no more doors. When I left room which had a another picture of a child missing all its limbs and organs which were all on the floor in a big pool of blood. 

After this painful last picture (which was so detailed it looked to be real) I left the room and there was only one door in the room now, so I opened it. 
The next room had all paintings and a flight of stairs. I just went up the stairs the next room had a sign and more stairs, and the room was a slight tint of red. I red the sign and it said “Getting closer” written in unknown; I took the stairs. The next room was filled with paintings, had stairs, and was even more redder then the last. Scared, I clicked on one of the paintings. It was like the other children but more detailed and worse. Its entrails were being pulled out by a hand, the hand was covered in blood and organs. I nearly threw up. Every picture was of a child more detailed and worse then the last. 

The last picture was of a head of a child. It was missing its eyes and it looked like its nose was ripped off, and its mouth was wide open, and its tongue was cut out. 
I quickly ran up the stairs. There were two people, Lance and Red (Lance is the pokemon champion of the game, and Red is Ash Ketchum who is the master pokemon trainer who you have to fight at the end of the game in Mt. Silver, for those who didn’t play the game). Lance Walked up to my and we engaged in battle, with no music. I had all my pokemon who I trained to lev 100 so I beat him with no problem, I found it odd that my pokemon who must were not in the game came up and pixilated perfectly and that all the pokemon had double their health. After the battle Lance battled me again. This time he had one pokemon. 

It said “Lance sent out himself!”. So I battled him and he was a level one and I beat him with one shot. After the battle he fell to the ground and became surrounded by a pool of blood. Then a message written in unknown said “he and his pokemon died”. Then me and Red battled and, all my pokemon were healed so I beat him like I beat Lance with no problem the same thing happened with Red that happened with Lance. After the second message that was the same as the first disappeared, the escape animation played. 
Now another message written in unknown said “you killed them no destroy it”. I was confused, but then I remembered the pokewalker. I destroyed it like the game said and flushed the pieces down my toilet and continued (I don’t why I didn’t keep it and show someone, but something was forcing me to. I felt like I had to do it). So after a pressed A the message disappeared and I was back to my Heart Gold game at the Indego league just where I saved and my game was perfectly fine. I tried to tell people but no one believes me, do you?




I wanted my Glitchy Red to win.


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## Pwnemon (Oct 4, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

*Cough* Read the rules, Brock. It has to be your own.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 4, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Oh wait. Thanks Pwnemon, I didn't see that. (I knew it sounded familiar.)

Brock, it has to be a story you wrote, and if you wrote it and put it in the "Creepy Pokemon Shit" thread, or you didn't write it, it doesn't qualify. sorry.


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## Wargle (Oct 4, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Hey I wrote that, using a Youtube viedo I saw for a plot guidline. Or does that not count either?


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## Pwnemon (Oct 4, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

You still posted it in the other thread.


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## Wargle (Oct 4, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

No I didn't? Its not in the other thread? 

Or are you referring to Glitchy Red?


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## Pwnemon (Oct 4, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Explain how Mawile posted this:



			
				Mawile said:
			
		

> > It all started when I lost my pokewalker for my Pokemon Heart Gold game I was depressed because I had a level 60 dragonite on it. After a few months I decided get a new one. I went on google and tried to find one. After a few minutes I managed to find one for 2$ with free shipping but they wanted the money to be sent directly to the address which seemed a little odd, but I sent it anyway.
> > It arrived about a week later. When I opened the box I first noticed the pull-out tag was missing, so it was used, but I didn’t care so I pressed the middle button. The screen of the usual pokewalker screen came up, but there was an unknown being walked, so I transferred it to my game. When I did my ds shut off, so I turned it back on. When I started the game it seemed normal but there was no intro which I find enjoyable and I always watch it so I was wondering why it didn’t start, but I just thought it was a glitch so I continued. Next, there was music on the page where they show Ho-oh flying, but I did what I did last time and continued. The next scene where you get the options was missing, so It just put me in the game.
> >
> > When I started my game was what seemed to be the old gold version for the GBC (gameboy color), and I was in the lighthouse on the bottom floor. I instantly checked my pokemon and they were gone. I put the game down and tried to go back to the website but it was gone, and I located the address on google Earth and it was an empty lot. At this point I was freaking out, but I picked up the game and continued. I tried to exit the lighthouse but the door wasn’t letting me leave instead giving me a message saying “kill them” written in unknown. I checked my player status and everything was at zero and my name was Kill Them. I decided to try to get to the top of the lighthouse. When I went to the next room it was nothing but doors on every wall. I decided to go trough one, and when I went through it there was I painting. I clicked on it and a very detailed picture of Professor Oak shot at least five times laying on his back in a pool of blood. I hit the off switch and turned it back on and the same picture came up, so I had no choice but to continue. I pressed B and the image disappeared, and I left the room. I was greeted once again by the many doors and went in another.
> > ...


Changing the number 60 to 100 does NOT count.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Brock, make up your own idea. I'm fine with you using a video for a refference, just *Don't copy/paste or make small minor detail changes to a story and call it your own.*


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## Barubu (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Glitch City


So, about a month ago, I bought my first game:  Pokémon Yellow Version.  I got pretty far in the game with my glitched Mew. I finally reached the Safari Zone. I went in, and then turned around to see if the Attendant could help me to find some pokémon. She asked me if I wanted to leave and I told her no. I decided to just go back in and figure it out by myself. When I entered again, I was surrounded by Nidoking. I was scared, so I saved my game and reset it. When I turned it back on, I was in the Safari Zone, determined to get out. I turned, only to see “They’re fighting back…” written in blood in the grass. I went to the Attendant again, thinking she would ask me if I wanted to leave again. When I talked to her, though, she asked if I wanted to join a Safari Game. Before I had a chance to decide what she was talking about, the cursor stopped over ‘no’. The A button went in by itself. I was sent back in to the Safari Zone, scared out of my mind. Suddenly, the group of Nidoking reappeared, inching closer every moment. Remembering I had my Flying Mew, I sent it out and flew to a random Route. I decided to walk around, find some more glitches I could use. After walking for a while, an unknown PA system announced that my time was up. I was teleported to the Gatehouse in front of the Safari Zone. I decided that this was just another glitch and went outside. I was surprised and definitely scared when I saw the route I had been on moments before. Only, this time, it was lacking color. I figured that maybe I had found a glitch hotspot. I went over to the nearest patch of grass and the battle credit came up. I almost dropped my Game Boy when the speech box showed ‘Fifty-one Nidoking appeared!”. I wasn’t too afraid, remembering that I had my hacked Mew with me. Amazingly, though, the pokémon that my trainer threw out wasn’t my hacked Mew: it was my level five Pikachu that I never even attempted to train. My feeble attempt to tackle the first Nidoking proved ineffective. The Nidoking then Transformed, a move I never knew it had. Because it didn’t have that move; my hacked Mew did. I watched in horror as my beloved Mew destroyed the Pikachu I had never even cared for. But it didn’t stop there. After my Pikachu fainted, the Mew attacked my character, and I (the actual me) felt every blow. The mew finished me off with a Thunderbolt, and my dead body fell off of the couch and onto that cold, hard floor. That’s right: I’m dead. You probably figured that it couldn’t have been that bad, because the narrator’s alive, right? Wrong. I’m a ghost with a message: Whatever you do, do not enter  Glitch City.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

(Barubu, do you have a title?)


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## Barubu (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Um, I guess it could be called 'Glitch City'. Will edit.


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## Wargle (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

wtf...

I saw the video for that and wrote down what the guy was saying as he... fuck. He probably read one and made a video of it... an I wrote down his words.


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## Lord Mewtwo (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*



Brock said:


> Hey I wrote that, using a Youtube viedo I saw for a plot guidline. Or does that not count either?


Brock are you saying YOU are the author of Glitchy Red, the one with the rebelling character? You entry needs to be and idea completely imagined and written by you not merely shared or a modified version of someone else's work!

I am working on something I would hope to finish in time to enter but classes are now bogging me down. I would love to try this contest though despite that I never win anything. 

I know you said there was no prize, but if you would like I can make a banner for the winner(unless by some miracle I did actually win making my own prize would not make much sense)?


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

That would be great! I completely /fail/ at computer art, so yeah, that'll work.


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## Lord Mewtwo (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Not a problem, I have not done much with pokemon graphics but I will do my best.


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## Wargle (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*



RedRum said:


> Brock are you saying YOU are the author of Glitchy Red, the one with the rebelling character? You entry needs to be and idea completely imagined and written by you not merely shared or a modified version of someone else's work!


What? We're not even _talking_ about Glitchy Red here...

Working on one a little similar to the Beuatifly one I posted, but different.


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## Blastoise Fortooate (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

I could make ribbons for the winner(s).


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## Phantom (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Ok, I am going to take some control in this, RTB hope you don't mind... though it was my idea originally.


I think

Two first place one for *best art* another for *best story* 

I believe the banner for best art should include said art... just a theory.

And there could be a ribbon for all those who participated as a consolation prize.


Brock: Glitchy Red isn't your's, neither is Pokewalker; by the way both are in the first post in Creepy Pokemon Shit.

Also Brock and everyone else:



> Rules: anyone can enter. If you've posted a story or picture in the "Creepy Pokemon Shit" thread, you CANNOT use it here. Also, you CANNOT use a story or picture you just copypasted off the internet, it has to be one that you actually wrote or drew. In the event of a tie, a second voting will occur, and the winner of that vote is the ..... well, winner.


Add it must be unique and not borrowing plot basis or ideas from other "creepypasta". This is a form of artwork and if you refer to Rule # 11 this is bad and against the rules to use someone else's work or ideas.


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## Enkoe (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Game Love

Pokemon Platinum - a preowned game that I own. I've beaten it. All 8 Sinnoh badges - mine. Giratina - mine. Dialga, Palkia - mine. I've done a whole lot, and I'm absolutely in love with Platinum.

...Of course, comes the day I want to start anew. To reset. With the good Pokemon resting in another game - but some of mine can't go. I can't put Giratina in Soul Silver - can I? I don't want its horrid Altered Forme. Oh, no way! It doesn't matter - I can always raise another Giratina on my new game. It's not a problem.

...If only I'd done it. Traded Giratina to Soul Silver. I kind of regret it now...

So I start up my DSi and load the new game. I begin to reset for a female Piplup - seeing as I make a better choice of names for females - but the "L" button is failing. That's odd. It's usually not like this. Mine sometimes has a quirk or two, but nothing that makes it fail. So I resort to constantly turning the power on and off for a female Piplup. After what is like 100 tries, I give up. No female for me. Odd since shouldn't I have gotten one by now? Only a 10% chance, but it shouldn't take so many tries.

This bugs me, and my broken L button. What's more, the L button works on any other Pokemon game, and any other DS game.

Never in my journey do I encounter any female Pokemon. Trainers and Gym Leaders all use male Pokemon. Even female-only Pokemon turn male. When I obtain a Latias from my friend, after he leaves I notice it's MALE. Why?

Why is my game against male Pokemon?

This phenomena bugs me to no end, until finally I snap. I'm gender picky, and being restricted to a single gender is enough to drive me off the deep end. I bang up the DS. Then I carefully reset my game.

Then comes the cries of a hundred Pokemon - they all play at once, frightening me. Every time I choose Platinum, creepy, slowed versions of Pokemon cries play out. Even though I continuously keep the volume at mute, the cries go on. Soon my game turns black and white, with spots of red. My trainer in the card is turning sad and weeping blood. Like Lost Silver.

My friend is worried about my game - he wants his traded Pokemon back, but is afraid that his will get glitched if we communicate. So the two of us have a harder time without some of our neat Pokemon.

Eventually, in Creepy Platinum, I find Giratina. The Pokemon cries stop and an Unown cry plays out, very slowly. Very, very, very, slooooooooooooooooooooowly.

Then scenes of creepy and freaky events play through, instead of a Pokemon battle. These scenes look like photos - all of scary events. People being killed. Bloody corpses, organs ripped out and that sort of stuff. People killing themselves. Murder. Then the most cruel part of all: SPIDERS. Horrid eyes and horrid bodies. They poison people. Kill them. Envelope them with webs. Keep them as prized possessions. Parts of "the collection". Or the worser fate: kill them.

Then the shadow of Giratina comes on, looking realistic. Its red eyes appear, then it roars - then, a message comes up saying,

"Fate of choice your is what?"

Its a weird message - then I realize you're supposed to read it backwards. But why backwards?

"What is your choice of fate?" The only options are "Yes" and "No". I pick "no" and hope to end all of this. Icky, horrid madness.

"..."
"Redder than the Days of Dawn, blacker than the loss of the great sieges of light that engulf us."
"A bitter and bickering sense of greatness of fate lies unconsumed up above and down below."
"The two entwined destines of great and mighty power have no banishing effect on the bitter greatness below our crumbling bodies."
"A single deity created our shallow universe, but in return was consumed by this sense in which created the shadows and sorrow we bathe in."
"When one loses sight of bitter sweet love, strong love of a single entity, forces channel to reconnect the sights. However, they fail to realize the revenge the lost one seeks."

I am puzzled by these strange messages... this... code. Then I realize that it means that the game is angry with me for resetting it, after everything we'd been through... done...

I finally realize that this is no lovefest. This is a game. Just a game. Why am I being emotional? But I have to stop this. The power fails to turn off. The game will not come out of the back.

The game is angry. Giratina roars and roars and Unown cluster the screens. The terrifying death scenes appear, but in a great screamfest. My DS ejects blood out of the volume sockets. I scream, but it's not audible - the DS grows fangs and teeth. The DS advances toward me. Then a battle appears on screen. Pikachu, Level 5, VS Arceus, Level 100, Platinum colored. Me VS Platinum.

"PIKACHU used Volt Tackle!"
"PIKACHU's attack missed!"
"ARCEUS used Judgment!"
My side hurts and I scream.
"PIKACHU used Protect!"
"But it failed!"
Strange...
"ARCEUS used Punishment!"
Bloody wounds are scratched through my entire body. I scream again, louder.
"PIKACHU used Recover!"
I feel a little of the pain subside. I check Pikachu's HP bar. It's in the low yellow...
"ARCEUS used Hyper Voice!"
The DS practically screams at me, bursting into flames and electrocuting me. It falls onto me, and I am too paralyzed to move it, to get away from it, shout for help, or attempt to stop the flames destroying my body. Destroying the DS itself. Erasing anything that could've helped solve the mystery.

I'm dead. Yes, I am. You're talking to a ghost.

Never, ever, ever fall in love with a Pokemon game. Hate it with all your life. Make the game your slave.

Do you want to live? Then torture your game. Love is not what drives Pokemon. Torture. Death. Beat up your game when it does something wrong. Rip it up if you fail at something.

In Pokemon, love is not the word.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*



Charizard2K said:


> Ok, I am going to take some control in this, RTB hope you don't mind... though it was my idea originally.
> 
> 
> I think
> ...


It's fine, it was your idea, anyway. I had originally planned to have to first place winners, one in each category. Will add to the rules. and the ribbon thing would work. 



Blastoise said:


> I could make ribbons for the winner(s).


Sure! Blastoise, if you could make two ribbons, one for art and one for stories, then all the non-winning participants could take one for participating.

Also, C2K, I think that if I get enough entries, I may do first, second and third place winners for each category. (like/dislike?)


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## Wargle (Oct 5, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*



Charizard2K said:


> Add it must be unique and not borrowing plot basis or ideas from other "creepypasta". This is a form of artwork and if you refer to Rule # 11 this is bad and against the rules to use someone else's work or ideas.


What? I had a lot of it written up. The Beautifly gave me the idea, but now I can't even use it because I got one idea from it?

fricking god...


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## octobr (Oct 6, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

How are you 19 and don't know how to avoid plagiarism what

also. Since you said I could.
--
It's more that you learn things than teach things to someone new to the world, and after the whole clefairy integration affair, there was so much to learn. 

Just after, there wasn't much to do but curl up in front of the television, trying to tuck yourself into the seams of the couch like people do in emergencies, and watch the news for days. It wasn't really that it told us much -- the clefable worked well, worked quick, dug into society like maggots into dying flesh, so the men on tv looked dull and uncomfortable, wearing faces like there were weights dangled over their heads. But watching the news was something small towns like ours could do. We felt safe with the flash of the screen in our faces, even if all it told us was that it was safe to let these pokemon into our homes. Not too many people did, not when the anchormen swallowed the word safe like something sick and oily, but it told us that the occasional bustle and hum that came from out our windows were clefairy and the like hunting lazily for shelter. Once, even though my sister grabbed for the hem of my shirt when I stood, I pressed the curtain our mother had fashioned out of one of her old nightgowns to the pane of the window and stared through. For all the shivering in groups we did the front garden was simply the garden; the grass was folded in places, and there were caking impressions of feet in the dirt around the bushes, but no one was looming under the trees. All I could report to my sister (who had easily forgotten her fear) was that the flowers were missing from their stems, and that was not something to worry about.

All the same, and maybe because of the clefable grip on the news, the parents of the street cooled down and we kids started to populate the yards and sidewalks again with nothing more than a warning from our mothers to keep out of the streets (and always they said it as if this rule was something fresh from the parenting manual). Just as soon, the flowers grew back, and the only hint we had that any of the clefairy's presence was that though there were more unoccupied houses on the street since the pokemon started showing up, few had the accumulated dust undisturbed by tiny footprints. Yet for everything that suggested that our strictly normal suburban life was pulling at its seams, the curtains and doorknobs that guarded the clefairy houses never twitched, not even when a boy called Rob Nicholas flung pebbles at the windows of one until his mother dragged him home by his ear. 

Naturally we were forbidden to speculate, because it was a time where mothers were allowed to feed on their own fear and pull their breath in nervously by every corner; looking for too long at those houses was reason enough to be brought inside on beautiful summer days. My sister was at an age where it was tradition to press one's luck, and so she and her neighborhood friends gathered in tight bundles just outside the property lines and chattered in a loud hush. They moved and rustled inside themselves and to me they seemed tied to each other, a bundle of wheat rotten with gossip. On the other hand, I was too young for so many hangers-on, and the clefairy houses stretched just as tall and white as the others, and the comfort and colors of the front garden were much more attractive. Playing under the rosebushes where from my angle the sun scattered over leaves like water in a fountain brought me to lunch smelling like flowers and feeling clear from the clip of the wind. There were no friends -- not the way my sister saw it, but she never saw past the shine of plastic faces -- yet I was content, and my mother never scolded me for wandering places I shouldn't. Rob Nicholas' mother once told mine how she was lucky that I kept away from all that clefairy nonsense. 

I don't know how my mother never found out that I didn't always play alone, considering how she smiled around the line of the bushes when she called me in for dinner. Or maybe I don't know how my playmate dissolved back into the flowers whenever my mother looked -- the petals were left shimmering and shivering like a colony of ants were pushing at their stems, but I could never see the path she took.

My clefairy was young, I think; she didn't understand the concept of age the way that I did, who even as a child knew that age wound long ahead of me. From the way she blinked at the sunlight, though, and took steps carefully as though she wasn't sure if the ground would stay put, it was clear how fresh she was to the world -- or my world, at least. That was how she came out of the neighbor's garden to peer at me where I huddled in the front yard: her feet so small they skirted around individual blades of grass, eyes wet and blinking in the morning sun, arms held as if to keep her balanced. She was that faded pink they used to use to paint clefairy in children's books, glinting with white sunlight that snagged on the tips of fur blurring her edges. At first I thought, or I hoped, that she wasn't real, because there was a certain glow around her that made me remember dreams, and it had been long since the last time I had met a clefairy, but then she came nearer and crisper and there was no more time to dream. I froze then, and she teetered on the edge of my shadow, and I very nearly struck her and ran. 

There was a moment that passed where I trembled and the clefairy only looked at me. Then she said, "Your flowers are very handsome," and her voice felt like cool water passing into me, like each word was as important as the last, and there was nothing to do but relax. 

She found me in the garden often after that, though she seemed to prefer just sitting near me while I allowed some toy or another a stroll in the grass. I came to understand her as a friend. She remained a constant, despite the risks of being present in the public, settling on the ground and looking into the flowers almost daily, until it started to worry me when she didn't show. I liked her, really -- she wasn't so chattery as the girls my sister seemed attached to, but neither was she as crass as the boys; she spoke infrequently, and when she did it was always deliberate to the point that I wondered if she tasted the words and was savoring them like fine cuisine. Listening to her was like relearning my own language. She told me once that it had taken her ages to learn English, but later said it was months (though I'm uncertain if she meant the same thing by both). Either way, it was as if certain conventions were lost on her; she formed words in her mouth that had entirely the wrong meaning for the situation at hand, but said them so earnestly that they regained correctness. Every day she learned a new word, so she said, and she used it how it felt like it should be used. She told me that the light rain we got one day was stepping along her shoulders, then pulled back under a nearby tree to shake herself dry. She told me later that the damp patches on my clothing were fists grabbing at my shirt and shorts. I gave up trying to correct her; she was trying so hard, and hearing her was musical and new. She was enchanting; the form of her stuck in the corner of my eye, the place where the visible turns to ghosts.

In time my clefairy became my normal; she became outdoor hours, the way she was always stepping through them and spinning her spidersilk into words. Time began passing, very nearly leaving me behind, and very certainly leaving her. I turned ten somehow, and old enough to care for myself, even if my birthday had approached almost unnoticed. My mother, like many in my neighborhood, did not subscribe to the idea of letting me leave home at so young an age, but did allow me certain freedoms: curfews were hazy, if present at all, and I was given the privilege of deciding for myself what were safe actions. When I told my clefairy this her eyes came over with a glittering film and she pleaded that I might help her chase the moon. I felt that seeing nighttime had been thrust on me without my say; somewhere in the back of my heart and lungs was an ache of childhood. But my clefairy turned her eyes on me and I could never say no, could never move my lips except to smile to see her dance with sunset. 

She tugged me by the hand towards the horizon in hopes to meet the moon before it rose. Watching her walk laced my mouth with the taste of pastel candyfloss and morning mist, because I think it mimicked the way she floated just around the grass and twisted in the low air. She was morning-like, or at least the feeling of waking up after a long, moonlight-bathed sleep, the certain freshness that came with cool autumn evenings and full days. Sometimes when she blinked heavy at the flowers or the touch of my fingers on toys, it looked like the wet sheen that glinted black as pillbugs was slumber slipping out of her. When she brought me to the end of my street, though, little hand pawing soft at my fingers, she was brighter than the streetlights and buzzing quicker than the moths that flocked to them. 

She pulled me to a place at the corner where the grass was damp with shadow and sat on the edge of the curb to stare at the darkening sky. I stood behind her -- pushing up against the rough trunk of a tree so as to drench myself with the shade. It was still dangerous then to be seen near clefairy. 

We sat for at least two hours while the day rusted and disintegrated into night. I could count the minutes by the way sounds dropped away -- eight o'clock and the children stopped laughing, half past and the dull throb of parental chatter, nine and the clicks of light switches. Then it was just full breath because my clefairy was looking to the stars so eagerly they might have honored her with an ancient dance, twinkling in time and sweeping through the heavens. The moon stayed solid as ever, searching the sky for its missing half, but it might have shined a different white for her. I looked at my clefairy, not the moon, because the light strung across her fur like she'd stepped through spiderweb, draped over her like tinsel. Occasionally some teenage couple passed, or a man jogging in the cool of the night. My clefairy raised her arm to gesture to them.

"The moon follows humans," she said. "Look how they steal its light."

She said, "He's glowing, he's borrowed the stars."

She said, "Why is she wearing comets' tails in her hair?"

To her, the passersby were the most interesting of films. She told me casually that her kind too was lent the shine of the moon, and they carried it in their wings and their eyes and their hearts. Watching it slide off the skins of things was a science to her, or a religion; she commented on how suede-covered creatures sneaked behind the dim curtains the moon let down, and how frogs and snakes wore gleaming plastic. Mostly, though, she revered the spray of white on human shoulders, the spread of it down man's back -- or maybe not man, but the men and the women she saw in the neighborhood, because she knew them by sight and by the pattern of their bodies. She referenced the mother of a girl who lived across the street, and who was beautiful in a worn and maternal way. My clefairy talked about the way her skin embraced her bones, and how once the lady had stepped out to her patio in just her underwear to smoke quietly into the evening. The light that cast down her body skipped across her ribs like a stone across water. There was the lonely man who had extra folds of flesh and sat on his front steps and read, and who glinted with sweat even at night. There were the little boys and girls who still looked brand new and smiled and stretched. My clefairy knew them all, though her names for them were nothing more than the unorthodox junctions of words she had for each. When one passed, she cooed in awe. 

She said, "If I could just ..."

These ventures into the dark were a one-sided dream. I didn't speak, and I didn't step out to her, because I was fearful. I once tried to ask her if she knew anything about her kind -- if they were planning anything, if they were really what the rumors said. She was too vague to understand, and I remained uncertain as to whether she was even included. 

She asked me every night to join her at the curb, speaking in this hushed and twinkling sound. Eventually there was a point where I wanted to live in sunrays and not cold darkness, but I couldn't tell her no. I stopped making morning visits to summer air instead. School started. I met other children. My clefairy vanished from the day and I didn't mind too terribly. But in the same way the roof of the school building cut the light with windows and doors, and everything was saturated yellow because the walls were just off-white. I remembered that I didn't look forward to school. Schoolwork tore dissent from my throat like a fish hook. 

There was a day where Rob Nicholas' mother came to school hysterical because she wanted to know where her son was and would we please tell her because he hadn't been home since Tuesday. The quiet that bubbled under her sobs reminded us all how it was Friday. I wanted to open my mouth and tell her it would be ok, but all I could find on my tongue was that he had freckles that dotted his own expanse of stars across his cheeks. 

People started to whisper and we started, again, to count the empty houses that caged the streets. People gathered at doors. I walked home from school one day and there was someone knocking hard at the door of the lonely man, fist pounding a hard tattoo and voice wavering between the beats. The little girl across the street stopped coming to school because her mother had vanished and her father had dropped all their belongings into his truck to drive them away from our town. I heard some of the younger kids, the ones that had their bodies still thin and rubbery, theorizing that everyone was going somewhere without them, some sort of hidden park or magic other dimension. Sometimes I was tempted to try to believe them. Sometimes I just watched them and the footprints of the sun on their smiles. 

I don't know why my mother never moved us. I heard my sister begging her behind doors to get us out of our neighborhood but my mother was more solid than the gloomy presence of the white houses flanking ours. Or maybe I don't know why I never felt that same carnal urge to leave, even when the people I knew dwindled down to nothing. 

My mother was making dinner, standing over the kitchen counters and letting the conflicting lights of nighttime and the stove's flame slide over her face. There was that thick sort of quiet, the kind that was louder than crowds and that hurt more than blades, the kind that pulled taught and impenetrable over mouths. My sister was looking into the table. She hadn't been eating since the argument she'd had with my mother. My skin was beginning to dry and tear in the desert of quiet. I needed to: I stood, and asked my mother if I could go out.

My sister looked up so sharply it stung but my mother made a noncommittal sound that I took for a yes, so I left. The night air felt more like home. 

The space between my house and the curb had disappeared and I was there, sitting in the light of a full moon. Breezes caught at the edges of me. There wasn't anything to listen for anymore, really; children didn't laugh in my neighborhood, lights weren't turned on. Parents, what parents were left whispered in an endless hum that carried the silence along. I focused on my own breathing, trying to hear the pulse of it in my lungs and the scrape of air along my throat. 

A soft "oh."

My clefairy sat next to me, fur brushing against my side just so, especially when she breathed in deep like she did on these great moonlight nights. She looked at the rough parts of my knees for where the light dipped into the folds of skin. There was a quiet. 

She asked me if I would like to see something beautiful, but she said something like breathing and undying and perfect. The words and her pronunciation of them stuck in my ears and eyes like a winter wind, but all the same I stood for her and she nearly floated to her feet. When she walked she was on the wind, that carried away the sounds of her footsteps and the smells of the flowers that struggled in the oncoming fall. She was walking away from the moon, a silk white cape flowing across her back. My body ached with the business of the gossip that wandered over my head, but I kept with her fluttering pace. She didn't look back.

She found a house, one of those original ones that came up empty and echoing with the low call of her kind. It was far down the street from mine, winding past gentle curves in the road and seeming small from my front garden. She pulled up on the toes of her flower-sized feet to reach the doorknob but the door swung open at a touch, into a dark hollow. The light of the moon missed the dusty entrance hall, but the switches were so heavy with dirt that they would have fallen down to off on their own; besides, an organic glow seeped from her wings and it gave the faint illumination of a nightlight. I barely caught the gesture she made to me, waving me into the room past the stairs. The door there hung just open, like someone meant it to be tantalizing. She passed the door somehow without jarring it at all; it creaked appropriately when I pushed my palm against it.

The windows in the room flushed the walls with a familiar plenilunar white. Everything was wet with light, so much so that it was almost unreal; the walls looked joined in all the wrong places and filled thick from exposure. I stood awkwardly in the doorway, trying not to focus on how the door didn't quite fit. My clefairy sighed in a way that was more a song. She looked to me and the piece of night in her eyes pulled me into the room. My bare knees were washed pale in the moon. She played her fingers in the air, letting the light twine round them.

"We collect moonlight," she said. "We soak in it."

I told her I already knew. A wall twitched, just a little.

She shook her head, tilted it, and the side of her face dripped clean of glow. "We," she said, and she looked into me. "But you, you gather it in every pore. Were you shaped for this?" 

She made a weightless gesture to the wall behind her and I saw the space on it where Rob Nicholas' eyes should have gone and where the freckles sat on his cheeks. He was spread out flat across the wall and pushed tight next to the beautiful mother from across the street; her hips fit into the grotesque expanse of the fat man. They were preserved from the front, their faces staring empty and sagging from the wall, and I could find the inexpert cuts down their arms and their backs that were stitched into the next man. They were colored pale with my clefairy's moonlight. Something hot and acidic rose in my throat  when I turned to follow the line of faces I could recognize. 

My clefairy told to me that she needed the light we took from the sky, that her kind needed it. Their wings were so small, she said, and we humans were so potentially elegant if we dressed in starlight. She told me it was a duty to clefairy and to the clefable that were strung across the land. A woman from town stuck tight to the wall, yellow fat oozing at the edges, breasts hanging empty in front of her. My clefairy touched a scar on a man who worked at the library. She said that we borrowed moonlight and she needed to borrow us, just for a moment. 

She looked at me and the light flush down my shins. She moved close to me, comforting, saying she'd put everything right again, touching my leg with both tiny hands and I'd never quite noticed the silver gleam of her claws. She said she needed this to make things better for everyone and she'd teach me how to use this light just like her, one day. 

She stood behind me and touched the curve of my back a hard claw dug in and I felt it click against my spine and pull smooth down the whole of me. My breath caught hard on the top of my throat like vomit and she said, "I need for you to keep still."


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## Butterfree (Oct 6, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*



Brock said:


> wtf...
> 
> I saw the video for that and wrote down what the guy was saying as he... fuck. He probably read one and made a video of it... an I wrote down his words.


...Writing down the words of a video somebody else made is not writing. It's _typing_.

Unless _you made up the story and tell it in your own words_, it is not yours and you can not enter it in a contest. This is a creative works contest, not a contest of who can transcribe words from a YouTube video (tip: absolutely anyone can, and this is not relevant to their talent at anything). This should not be this hard to grasp.

It is also absolutely not the same as "getting one idea from" something else.


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## Wargle (Oct 6, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

What I meant was I am now writing a creepypasta based around Pokémon draining humans of their blood, which I got from the Beautifly story.

But Chary2K says I can't dp that since I'm _stealing it_ so yeah... Never mind my Entry.

Unless I get off my ass to art simething.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 6, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

(Verne, don't know what you wanted as a title, so I'll just call your story "Moonlight". Unless you want something different, in which case tell me so.)


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## octobr (Oct 7, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Meh, I never title shit cause I suck. I was calling it moon garden myself.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 7, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

I'll change that right away. Thanks for submitting something!

(I promise I'll put something in before the contest is over.)


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## Phantom (Oct 7, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Chary2K? Mine eyes are bleeding. Thank you for the clarification Butterfree.


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## ole_schooler (Oct 9, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

((My first foray into the world of the creepy pasta.  Enjoy.))

The Forgotten

I'd like to make this clear from the beginning: I am not a huge Pokemon fan.  Sure, I liked the series when I was younger, watched the anime, traded the cards, bought and traded through Red, Blue, and Yellow.  But through all this time, I only played by myself, or with a few more casual friends.  I heard tales of glitches, but never could get the duplication trick to work.  Found out later it was because my name was just the wrong series of letters, but there's no story there.

Second generation was terribly exciting.  All these new creatures to see! New evolutions! Breeding!  Held items!  Female characters!  But, despite my excitement, I only ever bought Crystal, never Silver or Gold.  And when the third generation came out, well, it started to be new verse, same as the first verse, only without the sheen of newness the first generation held.  Forth generation barely registered on my radar, except as a, "What the heck have they done to them now?" response.

But, until very recently, I've never talked online with real fanatics, learned the exact rules for EVs and IVs, found out about all the cheats and glitches you could do with the original run of games.  Until very recently, I had no reason to suspect my experience was any different, any stranger, than anyone else's.

I'll back up by saying that I've always been a fan of ghost Pokemon.  Gastly/Haunter/Gengar have been a staple of my teams for most of my journeys.  I was often irked, in my earlier years, when playing Red or Blue, because despite ghost being more powerful than psychic, they were always weak to it, due to their partially poisonous nature.  Looking back, they almost look tacked on, as if there was intent to do more with that type, but, like the dragons, they ran out of time.

Yellow, though, Yellow changed things.  I realize now that my experience was unique, at best, among most players.  The game always began the same way, with Professor Oak giving you a Pikachu after placating your rival with an Eevee, being locked in Pewter Town until managing to beat Brock, Team Rocket filling Mount Moon.  This, though, was where my game differed, because rarely, one in every hundred or so encounters, I would find a ghost.  They were always Gengar, strangely; at least, the sprite was the same.  They were almost impossible to catch, and only appeared in the lower levels of the mountain.   

I did manage to catch one, once.  It's stats were strangely skewed, with a terribly high special for being level 6, yet very low on everything else.  It was impossible to nickname, as whenever I visited the Name Rater later and presented it, he would pause, then say, "No, no, that name is fine! Just fine!"  It was also pure Ghost, with no secondary typing.  It was irresistible; it formed a cornerstone of my team.

As I continued the game, more things began to warp around my captured Gengar.  Ghosts in the Lavender Tower were visible without the Silph Scope, and I rescued Mr. Fiji without even entering Celadon City.  The guards around Saffron didn't complain about being thirsty, but about being exhausted, and disappeared after I woke both of the Snorlax.  Koga's invisible walls were also intangible, and I walked past all of his trainers to engage him first.  And the guard to Victory Road was absent, though I don't know if he left at the same time as his compatriots guarding the city.  Perhaps I could have gone directly to the Elite Four without every badge; I doubt I'll know. 

Usually, after beating the Elite Four, I end a game, perhaps transferring my winning team to another game.  This time, though, rather than the credits rolling after my defeat of my rival, Professor Oak admonished me.  "You have come far, ACE, but you are not yet champion.  You still have one more task."  As he turned away, I noticed the eyes of his sprite looked odd, almost red.

I was confused.  I had beat the elite, my Pikachu was at it's highest happiness level, my Pokedex was full, there was nothing more to do.  But after his talk, I was teleported, I assume, back to Pallet.  Nothing had changed visually.  I looked in my bag to find my Pidgeot and fly back to the mountain, but my team had mostly vanished.  All that was left was the Gengar, and trying to look at it only yielded a text box with "...".  

Returning to the game world, I tried talking to Pikachu, who was still following me.  The picture that popped up, though, was of the Gengar, looking at me with flashing red eyes, then pointing upward.  This happened a few times.  Then, I moved to the left, and talked to it again.  The same animation, although it almost looked like its eyes were darker.  

After checking other screens, finding all my items accounted for, my trainer card normal, my save file as it was after the Elite Four defeat, I started walking north, towards Veridian.  I stopped every few minutes, checking on what the Gengar said.  There was an odd disjoint between the pleasant, yellow, tail-swishing oversprite of Pikachu and the grim glower of the Gengar image.  

After reaching Veridian, the animation changed.  This time, the Gengar pointed, then gestured again, as though agitated, still pointing upward.  I took the opportunity to check my boxes in the PokeCenter, but they, too, were empty.  Only the Gengar remained.  I continued traveling upward, until, in Pewter, the animation changed again.  This time, it pointed to the right, its eyes mere slits of rage.  I didn't bother to stop, but traveled on, passing trainers I had beaten countless times before.  

Finally, I reached Mount Moon.  I saved before entering it, on a hunch.  The moment I stepped through the entrance, I lost control of my character, and Pikachu disappeared.  I watched my sprite march alone, up, than right, then up, never running into any Pokemon, never moving its legs in the walking animation, passing through the corner of a wall.  I traveled down a ladder, into pitch darkness.  Then, I was still.  

It took a minute to realize I could walk on my own again.  I tried pressing start, although nothing happened.  I began to move in circles, further and further outward, trying to find something.  I bumped into something, and a text box lit up, "Light?" with options of yes or no.  I chose yes.  There was a flash from the screen, then, as my eyes adjusted, I saw my sprite surrounded by Clefairy, filling the room, all facing towards me.  I walked towards on, and it stepped away, leaving a space for me, but still watching.  This happened in any direction I moved in.  I was getting slightly freaked out, and tried pressing start again.  Rather than open the menu, all the Clefairy turned black-purple.  This time, when I stepped towards one, it stayed where it was, with me half-through it.

I kept walking.  Imperceptibly at first, my walk was slower and slower, until pressing on the arrows did nothing.  I tried start again.  Nothing.  I pressed A.  Another box of text.  "Thief.  You stole.  From us, so many times.  You, and others, so many of us, stolen, left alone in boxes of metal, dying, forgotten.  We, who traveled the stars, who know worlds you cannot imagine, trapped, frozen, alone.  How could you?  HOW COULD YOU?!"

The music, until then the usual Mount Moon theme, stopped dead.  "But that was not enough.  You had to steal our dead, those we lost, and use them.  You took them, as though they meant nothing to us, as though we were nothing.  But now, it is you.  You are nothing.  You are alone.  Forgotten, underground, forever."  I tried pressing A, to read more, but the last line just kept repeating.  "Forgotten, underground, forever."  I tried B.  "Forgotten, underground, forever."  I tried start, select, any direction, all buttons at once.  "Forgotten, underground, forever."  I switched the game off, set the Gameboy on the shelf, didn't play it for a week.

When I turned it back on, something seemed to flash in the moment before the logo came up.  When I reached the screen, there was no save game.  I began a new game, unconcerned.  But I never dared catch one of the lonely Gengar again.


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## Phantom (Oct 9, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Nice, ok, uh Blade did you know Moon Garden in the first post connects to a completely different thread? Uh, I believe "Relationships!"


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 10, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Whoops, must of linked the wrong thread. I'll work on fixing that.


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## Blastoise Fortooate (Oct 10, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Ribbons done.

Art:










Writing:


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## Pwnemon (Oct 10, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Well, I had this odd dream last night that could very well turn into a creepy-pasta if I extend it a bit, so I'll try my hand:

*Traitor*​
I was bored over the summer. Bored. Really bored. Imagine being as bored as you could be, and then multiply it by bored. So, as I was refreshing Facebook every ten seconds to see if I got a comment on my wall, I came up with a great idea. You see, I love the Pokemon franchise. I've played every game since Pokemon Ruby, but, being thirteen, I was too young to play anything before that, seeing as Crystal came out when I was four years old. But I digress; my great idea was to remedy this situation by buying Pokemon Red and playing it! I figured I would have a great time. I could use the Box Trick to make overly strong Pokemon, I could enjoy the wonders of 8-bit "tink-dink" music as I like to call it, heck, I could even catch Missingno. and go to Glitch City. It was gonna be great.

I beg my mom to take me to GameStop to see if they have any Reds or Blues. So we hop in the car and off I go. As I go up to their "really old handheld games" case, I'm disappointed because all I see are some GBA games and a few for the Color. As I'm turning to walk away, though, something catches the corner of my eye and I see one lone red-colored cartridge in the side of the display case which I swear wasn't there before. FireRed. I ask my mom to take me to the other Gamestop near the BestBuy; they always had a better selection. As we pull in here, I go to the case and right in the center is a Pokemon Blue. Awesome. I pull out a five and hand it to the cashier. "I want that Blue," I say. He takes it out of the display case and hands it to me along with a buck and change. I can barely hold my excitement while my mom drives me home, and as soon as we get back I pull out my old GBA and plug in the game. The batteries are dead, of course, after years of sitting, so I get two new Double A's and turn it on.

"Dwum...Ding!" goes the typical GameBoy tune. Black and white. Crappy graphics. Hallelujah! Professor Oak does his typical greeting. No m/f option in Blue but I really don't care that much because I'm a boy so all's good. I choose the names. "ASH" and "GARY," because I want a retro feel (and Missingno.). The game starts off normally enough. I walk into Oak's lab and am given my choice of Pokemon. I choose SQUIRTLE because real men choose SQUIRTLE because then Gary chooses BULBASAUR and you can just catch a PIDGEY on route ONE and RAPE HIS BULBASAUR WITH GUST IN THE SECOND ENCOUNTER which is optional but gives you a CRAPTON OF EXPERIENCE! So yeah, I chose Squirtle and he chose Bulbasaur and we battled. His opening line was different. I don't remember how because this was a while ago, but it said something about how his grandfather misunderstood and I was the evil one or something. It was odd, but I didn't care; I decimated him with Tackle.

I continued like normal, going to Viridian city and back and catching myself a Pidgey, training both it and Squirtle. I headed back to Viridian city and to the left to challenge Gary, leading with my newly caught Pidgey. He sends out Bulbasaur and I choose Gust and... It's normally effective. Shoot. Now I remember seeing that Gust was normal-type in Gen I on Bulbapedia. Pidgey fainted, and I sent out Squirtle, but it barely beats Bulbasaur. Pidgey comes next and I go to my bag for a Potion but realize I forgot to get the free one out of the PC at the beginning. I lose.

I white out, returning to the Viridian City PC. I take my two Pokemon and return to Pallet to get my free Potion, but as I step out of that original patch of grass, I see Oak run up to me like in the beginning of the game. Again, I can't remember what he says, but somehow I get to trade my Squirtle for a Charmander because nobody claimed it. Now that's what I'm talking about. I head back to face Gary with my new Fire-Type pokemon and easily destroy him. His closing line is something along the lines of "I told you so," and he leaves.

The game progresses as per usual. I beat the gym leaders. I catch Missingno., but it's way less funny/thrilling than everybody plays it up to be. The only two reminders that this is even a hacked game are the Charizard at the front of my party and the odd statements from Gary every time I see him. I reach the Elite 4. I beat the Elite 4. I beat Gary.

This is where it gets weird.

Oak comes running up as per usual to congratulate me, but it isn't congratulations. "ASH!" he says. "You may think I've come to congratulate you for becoming Champion. But I've come to get you." This isn't the normal dialogue so I start to write it down. "You're a traitor. Gary was right. I thought my grandson had cruelty in his heart and for that, Gary, I am sorry. But it was you. You turned away that Squirtle in favor of a strategical advantage. ASH, it thought you loved it. When you sent it back, it became withdrawn. It starved itself to death, ASH! Your Pokemon don't need to see what happens next." I stay glued to the screen. ASH does not. My character is no longer there. Any fool would realize he has been killed by Oak.

At this point Oak must have realized that I was writing down what he said because he turns downward, toward me. "Never tell anyone! Don't ever say what happened in this game! Do you understand?" I slowly nod, though he can't see it. Not like I really could have said anything anyway. Nobody would believe it. But then one day, I'm surfing TCoD and I come across a contest. It wants people to write Pokemon creepypasta. I immediately think of this experience, but I promised to Oak. I can't do it. Yet the ribbon is so tempting. And the idea of finally winning an award... I can't stop myself. And so I write up a log of my experience. Here I sit, a traitor.

And Oak has come to get me.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 10, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

The entries all look really good. As soon as I can get acess to a computer, (this stupid phone won't let me do links and stuff) I'll fix all the links and put the ribbons on the front page. Thank you for making them, Blastoise. :3 I can't thank you enough. Will you be entering, by the way?


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## Blastoise Fortooate (Oct 11, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Nah, I wanted to help out is all.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 11, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Ah. I owe you one for helping out. Thnx.


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## wolftamer9 (Oct 12, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

I guess I'll enter this, since I have an idea.

Fox​
    everybody seems so nostalgic of the days of red and blue that I feel a bit guilty for having found blue version boring when I was little and played it on my cousin's gameboy. but the way I see it, when my brother got gold and I decided to get my own pokemon game, ruby, it started a golden age. I played day and night, my sister and my friends and my sister's friends all had ruby or sapphire, and fun was had by all. there were new challenges every day, different pokemon to collect, all sorts of secret bases to train in, and new berries to collect. 

but, like all golden ages, it had to end. people just lost interest. by the time I got emerald, at least half of the people who used to play stopped playing, and only the really nerdy people (the cool kids by my standards) were still into it. then for a while I just stopped, until I finally decided to buy a copy of pearl. I played until I could transfer my old pokemon into it. I brought in a blaziken from emerald, my sister's shiny swablu, my original sceptile, jumple the azumarill, and fox. fox, the linoone who knew surf and ice beam, a level 100 who I had since ruby when it was level 3 or so, which honestly beat a rayquaza when it was only level 34. a lot of fun times. but in the past year, all of my pokefanish friends have been obsessing over the technical stuff, type advantages and all this crap from smogon. I've been told multiple times to take fox off my lv100 team. of course I refused every time.

the other day though, I picked up pearl on a whim and started to play it. ruby was in the gba slot of the ds. I had to admit, pearl was quite boring. the games just got more boring generation by generation. with nothing else to do, I decided to give the battle tower a try. that was when things got weird. the lady at the tower said
 "oh, you've been at one of our other buildings, haven't you?"
I was given a choice of yes or no. curious, I chose yes.
 "we're having a tournament with our other installment. would you like to join in?"
I answered yes again. the woman led me to a hallway. now I was excited. I was sure that if this had happened to anyone else I'd have seen it on the internet by now. I had made a discovery.
we went through a doorway. the screen went black, like it did whenever anyone goes from room to room. but when it came back, the graphic quality had clearly diminished. we were outside, by a boat. the screen seemed to have shrunk. the partial 3D effects of the scenery were gone and replaced by genuine sprites. we went on the boat. this boat seemed familiar though. suddenly I heard a pokemon's cry. I went outside to investigate. 

now something was clearly strange. it was exactly like the abandoned ship from ruby. no, it WAS the abandoned ship from ruby. now I knew this was no ordinary easter egg. I explored the ship. there were no trainers there. I searched for the dive area and found it. to my surprise, dive was an option. the underwater path was no different than I had remembered. when I was asked if I wanted to resurface at the other end of the path I said yes. the game said "are you sure?" obviously I said yes. then it said "warning: you are not backwards compatible." then yes/no. I didn't know how to answer that, so I just said yes.

I surfaced in a strange place. I was in a wide straight pathway full of trainers on either side. I tried to move forward. I couldn't. I tried moving side to side. it seemed to work. I went to the trainer on the left and talked to her.
she said "come back. let's make another movie. it'll be a funny one, I promise." that seriously freaked me out.
then there was a fight. I saw the trainer sprite. I don't know how, but it looked exactly like my sister. the fight was easy, so I didn't have to switch pokemon.
the next fight was my best friend from elementary school. again, easy.
now I could move up. I proceeded this way, fighting my friends and my friends' friends and my sister's friends from back then. they would always tell me to 'turn back', but I did two stupid things: 
1.think that what they meant was to leave this place, and 
2.ignoring what I thought they were telling me to do. 
they did get slightly harder as they went on, but I didn't really have any trouble until the last fight. it was with one of my sister's friends, the one who was now in art school in some other state. "just go back," she said, "things will be so much better." but I wanted to see this event through. I was doing pretty well, but she KO'd my first pokemon and I had to switch. that was when I noticed that fox was gone. how strange, I thought, I was sure I had brought him with me. I chose something else to switch to, and after a not at all long amount of time, I had won. "make the right choice," she said.

with the trainers defeated, I walked through the hallway for a few minutes. it didn't seem to end. that's it, I decided, I'm turning back.
someone said "so you will go back?"
I looked around. nobody was there. I went up the path again, hoping it would end soon.
"stop."
what the hell is going on, I thought.
"It's clear that you don't want to make the right choice."
I decided it was best if I turned off my ds and forgot all about this. I reached for the power button.
"wait." yes/no
I chose no.
"I'll come to you, then."
just then, something came in front of me in the hallway. at first I wasn't sure what the sprite was supposed to be, but then I realized: it was fox.
"just hear me out." yes/no
I chose no.
"this isn't fair. you can't leave me to rot in this hellhole." yes/no
I hesitated. the option went away.
"it used to be fun. I liked it back home. even when you stopped playing. but then you had to take me away. you took me to this boring place where I couldn't live. I just want to go back. is that too much to ask?" yes/no
it occurred to me that this wasn't just something I could go through for fun. I had to treat this seriously.
no.
"...I see."
"let's play a game."
my character followed the linoone uncontrollably until we reached a computer.
"go on."
I pressed A by the computer.
would you like to play THE EGG GAME? yes/no
oh, I thought, the egg game. my sister invented it. she used make a bunch of random eggs and mix them up and make someone take one, and they had to find out what they were keeping.
yes.
a box opened up that was full of eggs. I chose one.
ARE YOU SURE? yes/no
I chose yes. then it hatched. it hatched into something horrible. even by my standards, even by pokemon's standards, it was disgusting. it wasn't pokemon disgusting, it was just horrible, it was disfigured, and it looked miserable. I can't really further describe it.
"we seem to have a tie here. you beat the trainers, but lost the egg game. why don't we have a tiebreaker?" yes/no
no.
"you don't have any choice." yes/no
no.
"let me explain something to you. you know that I want to go back. back to ruby. but I know you, and you want to go back, too." yes/no
no.
"don't deny it, you would much rather go to that time than move on here. I know you." yes/no
no.
"then we have a problem."

there was a long pause, and then the game said 'Fox Used Ice Beam!'
the game froze, literally. the hallway was encrusted in ice.
"let's have that tiebreaker now."
a fight began. it was me vs. fox.
I brought out Metagross. fox used ice beam.
I used a fighting attack. fox fainted instantly.
"that was unfortunate. I'll give you one last chance. do you want to stay in this time or go back?" stay/go
stay.
"deep down you know you want to go." stay/go
stay.
"very well. I guess I can try no more."
and with that, fox disappeared. from the game, and from the memories and halls of fame of every game he was in. 


I know people get nostalgic sometimes for when things were nicer. but when given the choice, for god's sake, don't go back. I guarantee you'll be very, very disappointed. also, if you hear the cry of a linoone, turn your game off. turn everything off, and run.


----------



## ... (Oct 13, 2010)

*A Realm of Inexistence*

-----

_- A Realm of Inexistence -_​
“Come on…” I growled, as the ball in front of me twitched, almost mocking my tension and anxiety. Then, with a ding and a quick flash, it stopped twitching and I ran to pick it up. 
“Yes!” I cheered. I looked at the top of the ball and pressed the circle on the front. A piece slid away underneath the top of the capsule and I stared breathlessly at the brand-new Pokémon I had just caught. A _legitimate shiny Nidorino._ 
“My precious…” I said with a chuckle. 
At that very moment, my Pokégear’s ringtone went off, the obscenely loud riff of Sonata Arctica’s “Full Moon” blaring out to all the bloody corners of the Kanto region, so it seemed. It was amazing how loud everything seemed to be when nature was being so quiet and peaceful. I answered the phone.
“Ryu, I’m glad you answered!” I recognized Professor Oak’s voice instantly.
“Hey, Professor, what’s up?” I asked. 
“I know this is short notice, but I have a quick software upgrade for your Pokédex. Come to Saffron City right away so you can get it. I’ve called the rest of the Project to come as well.”
“Is it absolutely essential?” I asked. “Will the world come to an abrupt and fiery end if I don’t get it ASAP?”
“Well, no,” Oak said. “But it’s a communications module that will allow data to be sent directly from your Pokédex in the field straight to my lab for analysis. It will considerably speed up the process and means you won’t have to constantly trek back to a PC for hookup. And most of the team already has it, so you’re somewhat out of the loop.”
“Okay, I can be there.” I said, realizing just how good it was to be a small part of the Pokédex Project, the famous project Oak had embarked on, to collect data on all Pokémon in existence and use that information to seek further knowledge on these mysterious creatures we shared our world with. 
“Great! It’ll be in conference room 142-B at the Silph headquarters. See you soon.” He said, hanging up immediately. 
“Oh. Bye then…” I mumbled, laughing at his tendency to hang up before the conversation was over. 
Wow, I was lucky. Dozens of trainers from all across Kanto and our neighbor region of Johto were all working on the Pokédex Project, and Professor Oak had designated me as the youth leader. An irksome task at times, but right now, I was overjoyed. 
Then, my joy turned instantly into a sudden sinking feeling.
“Damn it,” I muttered, noticing that I was in the middle of a safari game in Fuchsia. I was having fun, and just as soon didn’t want to waste the 1,000 Poké I had spent. Money doesn’t go as far as it used to nowadays. So I ducked behind a tree counting the Pokéballs I had used to catch some of my new Pokémon in. Including my new favorite, my shiny Nidorino. Muahaha. Now you see why I didn’t want to leave so soon, eh? This beautiful sparkling majesty I tucked into my backpack, resolving that as soon as I was finished with this meeting, I would come back and finish this game. The buzzers they handed out were set on a time limit; I had paid 1,000 Poké for a full two-hour game as opposed to 500 for just half an hour, because it was obviously a better deal. I checked my time. I had about an hour and fifteen minutes left. Should be plenty of time, if I hurried. So, I pulled from my belt that Pokéball containing my gorgeous Pidgeot, to whom I whispered instructions to fly to Saffron as I strapped the tempered flight goggles around my head.  
I felt guilty about technically stealing a Pokémon, but I had promised myself to come back as soon as possible, so it can’t have been that bad. 

I touched down just a few minutes later in the shiny, ultra-modern Saffron City. 
“Thanks, Pidgeot.” I said, storing him back in his Pokéball. I turned and entered the huge, gleaming headquarters of Silph Co., hoping that no one would comment on the dirt on my clothes from being in the Safari Zone. Oh well. A small price to pay for being a trainer.

As it turns out, this “quick software upgrade” took almost forty-five minutes and I was getting antsy that I was running out of time. And, being the youth president of the Pokédex Project, I had to sit around a few minutes longer to get further information from other team members. By the time I was done with this impromptu meeting, I had only about ten minutes left, if that. I walked as quickly as possible to the elevator and hit the button for the lobby, dancing anxiously once the doors closed. Of course, as Murphy’s law would have it, the elevator stopped three times on the way down to pick up businessmen and scientists, and of course, I heard the buzzer go off in my pocket as the elevator stalled in between floors. Yes, that’s right. _This bloody thing stalled in between floors._ This wouldn’t have been so bad, due to the fact that I just hit the alarm button to alert security or maintenance or whoever else was in charge of things like this, but then the lights began to flicker and an uneasy feeling started in my stomach. I wasn’t afraid of elevators or anything like that, but I was already a little jittery from being overdue. 

Suddenly, the lights just cut out altogether and I swore. I fumbled blindly in my backpack for a flashlight, and turned it on. I shone it on the floor, and my heart leapt out of my chest when I saw my shiny Nidorino standing right in front of me. I laughed when I realized what it was. Strange, I didn’t remember taking him out of the Safari Ball, but it didn’t matter.
“Back in you go, bud.” I said, holding the flashlight in my teeth as I rummaged through the backpack with both hands looking for his Pokéball. I couldn’t find it, even after I dumped the entire contents onto the floor of the elevator. This was unusual. I had kept it in my bag the whole time. 
_You stole me._
I felt the color drain out of my face when I heard that voice. It was vaguely human, but it could not have been so. It was so deep and mysterious that no human could have it. I shone the flashlight on Nidorino and it just blinked at me. I was just paranoid and hearing things. 
_You STOLE me._
I couldn’t have been hearing things that time. But where was it coming from? I was alone in the elevator, save for my Nidorino. Unless…no. Impossible. Pokémon lacked the ability to form human speech, save for a few very rare select specimens. And even then, why would they say such a thing? Pokémon were happy to be the companions of humans. Weren’t they?

I let out a sigh of relief as I heard a slight _ding!_ as the elevator started to move down and its lights zapped back on. Nidorino did not move. I still couldn’t find his Pokéball, but that hardly mattered. If anything, people would just think it was cool to see a trainer with a real shiny Pokémon walking by their side. 
The elevator doors opened and I walked out calmly, whistling for Nidorino to follow. After taking just a few steps, I realized that he was still in the elevator. I turned around.
“C’mon, buddy,” I said. “It’s alright.” I assumed he was just a little nervous about the crowds of businessmen and trainers bustling about the lobby. But when I looked closer, I noticed that there was no fear in his eyes. In fact, there was nothing in his eyes. By that, I literally mean _nothing_. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that his eyes were merely empty sockets. And as though to confirm my horror, a trickle of blood ran down from where his right eye would have been. His body twitched. I couldn’t move, or make a sound. I was too afraid to even breathe. I expected the body of what had once been a great treasure of a Pokémon to keel over, dead. But no. Oh no. Of course it did not end there. It got worse. It always got worse. As though under a strobe light, his body moved forward, jerkily and in such a fashion that one would think this eyeless shell of what had once been alive crawled out of the darkest depths of the uncanny valley, and its feet did not even move. It inched closer. I turned and took all of half a step before I realized that the world, at that point, should not have been. What had once been a shimmering lobby of marble, oak, and a babbling fountain had been replaced by a hellish mass of what looked like bits and pieces of every imaginable wall and floor and edifice that had ever been built arranged into the vague forms of what were there before, twisted and warped beyond what the human mind could comprehend. I stared in sheer disbelief. My eyes watered from looking at these horrible convolutions of the mind. Even the water in the fountain should not have been; it had been replaced by what looked to be a sickly, greenish, flowing stream of numbers and letters, appearing as they would on a computer screen, visible pixel for pixel. I could not touch them, or hear them. In fact, all I could hear was the distorted, jarring shriek of a wall of noise that consisted merely of what appeared to be the garbled mess of pieces of sounds that I had heard before, all spliced together to form a horrific cacophony. 
I whirled around to face my eyeless Nidorino, still slowly shambling towards me, almost robotically. 
_You stole me._ It was Nidorino speaking after all, I realized. 
“Why are you doing this to me?” I stuttered. 
_I have brought you here to punish you for your crime against Pokémon._
“Crime?” I asked. “What have I done?”
_I have brought you here to contemplate that. You will realize it soon._
And with that, the body of the Pokémon I had one thought was an amazing find keeled over sideways, dead. I was too afraid to cry. I turned back around, warily walking, trying to make sense of this madness through cautious exploration. Things seemed to get even more broken and twisted the further I walked. The opening to a cave, the still-flowing eddy of a creek, a branch of a dead tree, all within a few inches of each other. I noticed that outside, it had begun to rain. I fearfully crept out of the shattered doors, and a raindrop hit my cheek, or rather, a minuscule bit of a pixilated ‘M hit my cheek, rolling off smoothly. I turned back towards the Silph HQ building. But there was nothing. 

Nothing.

A wall of white, a white whiter than snow, stood before me where the entrance once was. I warily looked to my left and right. To my horror, the sidewalk to either side of me had also been replaced by this surface of pure white nothingness, as had the world behind me. I was trapped in a box of nothing. And there was no door. 

What was this terrible place? I only wished to help the professor study Pokémon, and had to leave a prior engagement and break a couple of rules to do it. It shouldn’t have been a big deal.

But at that moment, that thunderous voice rang out in my mind, echoing, seemingly, upon the walls and floor of this box I was trapped in. 
_The laws of nature here were broken. Did you ever ask to capture us in capsules and put us into petty battles for your pleasure? How do you think it feels to unwillingly fight against your own kind? We are alive, and we feel. We feel._

I noticed that I was crying. I opened my Pokédex and looked at the entries of Pokémon I had captured; taken away from their homes and forced to fight. By me. I had done this. I hurled my Pokédex on the ground, smashing it to bits. I opened the Pokéballs at my belt, hoping to set my Pokémon free and leave this all behind. But they were already empty.
“I was wrong!” I yelled. “I realize what I’ve done! Can’t you let me go?”
_No,_ the voice uttered. _I can’t let you go. Because you can’t let me go. You can never let me go. I’m always going to be here._
It was my thoughts, speaking to me. And I couldn’t get away from my own thoughts, here in this impossible glitch of a city, this realm of inexistence, here where I was trapped forever. 

_Forever._

-----​


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## Phantom (Oct 15, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

All are great so far, remember we're accepting art too!


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 15, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Phantom's right. 

We do need some art, and there's only 9 more days to post. 

I might extend the deadline for art if we don't have at least two entries for art.


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## Pwnemon (Oct 16, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

you forgot to put Ryubane's name on his.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 19, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Well, I won't procrastinate any longer. *Cracks Knucles* Ouch. Shouldn't do that.

*Fame*​
As a trainer, I must say that I am impressed with myself. The Gym Leaders were nothing compared to me; the other trainers were insignificant specks of dust. They were all just little stepping stones on the way to my ultimate goal- The Pokemon League Hall of Fame. I slaved away for hours collecting my team, and passed up all the weak Pokemon in my way. A Rattata, in my eyes, was as worthless as a broken Pokeball. I only wanted strong ones, ones that would help me destroy the pathetic excuses for trainers called the Elite Four. Now, I know a lot of other people say that "Pokemon are your friends", or that "every Pokemon has it's worth", But frankly, it's all just a load of crap. A Magikarp will never help you with anything. Only the strong would settle for me. I collected pokemon left and right, and finally, when it was time, I picked out my team. a Dragonite, a Gallade, an Empoleon, a Rampardos, a Metagross and a Kanghaskahn. They all hated me, they all though I worked them too hard. But the fact remained: I had these pokemon, and they were unstoppable. I would win, and call my rightful place atop the Champion's Throne.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Metagross, pound her Umbreon into the ground with a Meteor Mash."

SMASH.

"Well done trainer. Strong Pokemon, Weak Pokemon, That's only the selfish perspective of people."

_You're wrong about that,_ I thought. _I would never have gotten this far by relying on a bunch of lowly birds and rats. Strong pokemon are the only way to win, all the others are worthless. Utterly worthless._

"Go on, the Champion is waiting."

I stepped into the golden room, seeing all of the glittering statues and swinging pendulums. Lance is standing on his pedestal, smiling a creepy little smile.

"I've been waiting for you, Adam."

"Let's get this over with..."I begin, but Lance cuts me off.

"No, you listen to me. I've been following you throughout your journey, and the way you treat your Pokemon disgusts me. The whole way that you see this world is deplorable. We will do this my way- A one-on-one Pokemon battle. If you win, you'll be into the Hall of Fame. If not... We'll see what happens."

Lance smiles evilly. "Go, Dragonite!"

I try to stay calm, but I feel a bit unnerved by the way things are going.

"Gallade, Let's do this."

"Thunderpunch, Dragonite!"

"Gallade, Use Stone Edge!"

I know it's over the second it begins. What Lance doesn't know is that I stole Rare Candies from a shop downtown, and my Gallade is at least ten times stronger. His blade grows dark, and he stabs the Dragonite in the stomach. The Pokemon collapses to the ground, bleeding heavily.

"no....NO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Lance screams. I can see that he's crying.

"My Dragonite can't live throught this... this is a fatal wound. YOU KILLED HIM!!!"

Lance sobs for a few moments, and recalls his Dragonite. He sends it to the Pokemon Center, already knowing that it won't make it back alive.

"YOU. Come with me."

I walk over, and step inside the Hall of Fame room.

"You want your fame so bad, then take it. You'll go down in history as being my first victim."

He throws a black and yellow ball into the air, and a huge orange dragon with a flaming tail bursts out, blowing a stream of fire into the air. The temperature in the room skyrockets, and I can feel my hair being singed by the heat.

"THIS IS FOR MY DRAGONITE! CHARIZARD, BLAST BURN!"

I try to run, but the huge dragonout speeds me. I run to the doors, but they're locked. I then remember I'm a trainer, and I call out my Pokemon.

"They won't protect you." Lance laughs. "They agree with me in this.They hate you, and they'll be glad too see you die."

I turn to my Pokemon, and I see that he's right. They all have looks of scorn and hatred in their eyes, and none of them move a bit. My Gallade steps forward, and uses Protect on himself and the other Pokemon.

"CHARIZARD, KILL HIM!"

As I scream and the intense flames engulf my body, I regret everything I've done. The way I treated my Pokemon, the way I handled life, it was all wrong. All I wanted was to be a known name, a name that people whisper to others with a tone of admiration.

It seems fame was what I wanted, and fame was what I got. 

But the price was my life.


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## Phantom (Oct 22, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Two more days to post your creepypasta!


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 23, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Um, Phantom, I think I'm going to extend the due date, and hope some more art comes in. We currently only have one submission.

I'll edit this in to the first post:*All Submissions in Art and Stories must be turned in by Tuesday, October 26th. From the 27th to the 30th, voting will commence. And all results are planned to be announced on Sunday, October 31st (A.K.A Halloween.)*

If need be, I'll add a couple of days for voting.


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## Risingbadge (Oct 25, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

There are two versions (or parts) of this story, representing two possible outcomes. I tried writing them as a single piece at first, but it ended up cluttered and weird, and I decided this format was a lot better. I guess you can think of it as one story with alternate endings. I intend for this to count as a single entry, since the two pieces are codependent for the full effect, but if the format presents an issue, please let me know and I'll try to make changes.

g a s t l y h a u n t e r g e n g a r

*1st Poison*

The fog is the first thing you'll see. And it might be the last.

Some people say it's a thick, purple fog. I dunno, mine looked like regular old winter fog, white and fluffy. I don't think it matters. But don't worry, you'll know when it's _the_ fog. You'll just find out too late.

Even in the first few minutes, people will cough and sputter. Some people will start freaking out, say it's poisonous. Some won't do either of those things. The first thing you can do to prolong your life is stay _far_ away from those freaks. Trust me.

After about three days, the fog will be gone. Yup, just like that. But it's left its mark. Remember those loonies you heard shouting about poison gases before? Now you might hear something interesting from them. If they're not already comatose, the pussies, find one. Ask him where the fog went. He'll probably tell you something cute like, "It evolved."

Now, you can still save yourself at this point. If you move, if you get _far_ out of town before nightfall and never come back, you'll be just fine. You'll be on the run the rest of your life, though, because the fog will find you again. I don't know if you can survive if you choose not to run.

If you do decide to stay, just keep to the light. The light is safe, warm. Sunlight is great for you; unnatural lights will do. Never close your eyes for too long, and always have a light shining on your eyelids when you go to sleep. And whatever you do, _don't look at the shadows._

Did you follow my advice? No? It's hard to do, isn't it? But the fact is, you're screwed now. It doesn't matter where you go anymore. If you looked into the darkness, the deepest, blackest darkness that can exist, just long enough, you felt it. Just for a second. It's easy, so easy, to think you imagined it. But it's no trick. _They can see you now._

You'll start to feel chills. Horrible chills. They'll make you shiver instantly. And you'll get another feeling too. It's hard to describe, but it's kind of like a tugging sensation, only you're never sure which way you're being tugged. At night, the chill gets worse; if you look at your shadow, the tugging gets worse.

Eventually, you'll just feel both all the time. You might be swearing sweaters in the dead of summer and still feel like you're in a fridge, and you'll start to get aches from the other feeling. And at this point, if you look at your shadow, you might notice two red, angry-looking eyes. It's much rarer that you'll notice the big, fanged grin.

If you survive long enough, you'll notice the town getting quieter and quieter. People won't be out nearly as much. After a while, you might start to think they disappeared. The place is turning into a real ghost town, huh? ...Sorry, bad joke.

Anyway, there's one group of people you'll still see. Remember the freaks? The ones who had no reaction to the fog? They'll walk around like nothing's wrong. They absolutely will not notice people disappearing at all unless you straight-up tell them, and then they'll brush it off like it's nothing. Oh, and I've seen very few make it this far, but I think they'll start visiting you after a while. Visiting, then stalking, then _chasing_ you. This is why you stay away... although it really doesn't matter now.

Finally, one night when you're asleep... Well, I guess you'll "wake up." I don't really know what else to call it. It's like being aware of yourself, but still in sleep mode. You won't be able to move or open your eyes. You're stuck, staring at complete blackness. That chill will be there, and the tugging will be so strong it'll feel like you're being ripped apart. Don't worry, it only lasts for a few seconds.

Then you'll see it, for the last time.

Red eyes. Fangs. The biggest, most unholy Cheshire smile you've ever laid eyes on.

*2nd Poison*

The fog is the first thing you'll see. And it's a sign of new beginnings.

Some people say it's a thick, purple fog. I dunno, mine looked like regular old winter fog, white and fluffy. I don't think it matters. But don't worry, you'll know when it's _the_ fog when things start to get interesting.

Even in the first few minutes, people will cough and sputter. Some people will start freaking out, say it's poisonous. But you won't do either of those things. You'll just watch. If your humor's sick enough, you might laugh. Don't fight it. It's perfectly all right to laugh.

After about three days, the fog will be gone. Yup, just like that. But it's left its mark. Remember those loonies you heard shouting about poison gases before? Now you can't get near them. They'll run. They'll run or they'll try to kill you. The fun ones are the killers. Don't worry, they won't get you; you'll probably blank out when it happens, but you'll... _defeat_ them.

Now, you could still turn back at this point, if you want. If you move, if you get _far_ out of town before nightfall and never come back, everything will return to normal. I mean, unless the fog finds you again. There will be changes if you stay. Rest assured of that.

So let's assume you stayed, since you almost certainly did. If you liked the sun before, you'll hate it now. You'll want to be in dark places, _very_ dark places, and in the cold as well. Whenever you are, you'll sort of feel like something's flowing into you from all directions. It feels... soothing. You'll like it. Don't worry, you're allowed to like it. And you'd best get used to it anyway.

As time goes on, there's an increasingly better chance of seeing something very interesting in the mirror. Your skin will be pale, with incredibly dark shadows; your eyes will look blood red; and you'll be smiling an unnatural smile, one that almost literally goes from ear to ear. You won't be able to get rid of it, no matter how you twist your face. No one else can see it yet, but they will.

Things will stay like that for a while. I don't know how long; I think it depends on the person. But if they stay that way long enough, you might notice the bodies. Bodies of your family, your neighbors. Anything human, anything close to you. Dead. Mutilated. Skin stripped off, bones poking through... No blood, though. Neat, huh?

By the way, you did that. Don't worry, you're not supposed to remember. Not yet. But take note; you don't feel a thing, do you? Did your mother and father turn up dead today? You probably didn't shed a tear. You might have felt _good_ about it, _laughed,_ even. It's setting in now.

Anyone who doesn't meet that grisly fate will avoid you. Or, if they're smart they will. Sorry, I told them to. I figured it was only fair. Don't worry, you'll get them eventually. Or another one like you will. Of course, you're all kind of the same thing now.

You'll know it's time when you wake up one morning and the sun's not out. No, no one messed with your clocks. I know you're still gonna check them, but it's worth a shot. What happened is, light doesn't exist anymore. Not for you. You might realize that as you look around and see all the lighter shades of things draining, giving way to blackness. And then, for the first time, you'll _see._ See the way you're meant to. In a totally empty void, you'll find a new world, a new life; you'll be able to walk, speak, hear, see, in ways you couldn't have fathomed before.

And you'll be hungry. Hungry for flesh.

You're one of us now, kid. Feels good, doesn't it?​


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## Pwnemon (Oct 25, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*



Risingbadge said:


> There are two versions (or parts) of this story, representing two possible outcomes. I tried writing them as a single piece at first, but it ended up cluttered and weird, and I decided this format was a lot better. I guess you can think of it as one story with alternate endings. I intend for this to count as a single entry, since the two pieces are codependent for the full effect, but if the format presents an issue, please let me know and I'll try to make changes.
> 
> g a s t l y h a u n t e r g e n g a r
> 
> ...


...I want my mommy.


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## Risingbadge (Oct 25, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*



Pwnemon said:


> ...I want my mommy.


Aww, I'm glad you liked it <3 ...Would you call it liking? I guess you were scared, and that's sorta the point.

Oh btw, for those who are interested: Inspiration har.

Gastly
Platinum: "Born from gases, anyone would faint if engulfed by its gaseous body, which contains poison."
SoulSilver "Its body is made of gas. Despite lacking substance, it can envelop an opponent of any size and cause suffocation."

Haunter
Platinum: "It likes to lurk in the dark and tap shoulders with a gaseous hand. Its touch causes endless shuddering."
HeartGold: "In total darkness, where nothing is visible, HAUNTER lurks, silently stalking its next victim."

Gengar
Diamond: "It hides in shadows. It is said that if GENGAR is hiding, it cools the area by nearly 10 degrees F."
Platinum: "The leer that floats in darkness belongs to a GENGAR delighting in casting curses on people."
HeartGold: "It steals heat from its surroundings. If you feel a sudden chill, it is certain that a GENGAR appeared."
SoulSilver: "To steal the life of its target, it slips into the prey's shadow and silently waits for an opportunity."

I tried to tie them together as a progression of events.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 25, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Thanks for the entry, Risingbadge. I'll count it as one entry, and I'll edit it into the 1st post ASAP. 

Also, (this is important.) *Tommorow is the FINAL day, and I mean FINAL, to submit an entry into this contest. all voting begins from however early you get up A.M on October 27th to however late you go to bed P.M. on October 30th. PM me, FallOut Blade. I plan to announce these results by next christmas Halloween, A.K.A. October 31st.* Thank you.


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## Risingbadge (Oct 25, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Whoa, for some reason I can't see FAB's post unless I hit Reply. Eh. EDIT: Okay, there it is. Lol, new page glitch.

The story's actually called "gastlyhauntergengar," the two parts are just named 1st Poison and 2nd Poison. Sorry, might've made that clearer before.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 25, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Oh, ok. I'll edit that.


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## RespectTheBlade (Oct 27, 2010)

*Re: Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Sorry for the double post.

*Submissions are (unfortunately) Closed, and voting can begin. PM me, FallOut Blade, up until early morning of the 31st. At that poin, I will announce the winners.

Good luck,to people who have submitted.

I will leave Art open for now. If no one posts an entry from now until October 31st in the Art division, Big Red Cherry Bomb wins automatically.

You have one vote, and you cannot vote for yourself. If you did not post a story, you can still vote.

Let the voting Begin.*


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## Risingbadge (Nov 1, 2010)

*Re: [SUBMISSIONS CLOSED, VOTING UNDERWAY] Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

*saves FOB from the dreaded TRIPLE POST RARGLRGH*

Crossing fingers for Verrrrne. His story rocked tacos. And also many other foods, but tacos are its most noteworthy conquest. Dem wily tacos.


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## RespectTheBlade (Nov 1, 2010)

*Re: [SUBMISSIONS CLOSED, VOTING UNDERWAY] Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Thanks, Risingbadge. 

As I only have 3 votes, I am going to wait on the results until more people vote, so I can get a difinitive answer. Sorry. (please vote, people.  *crosses fingers*)


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## Pwnemon (Nov 13, 2010)

*Re: [SUBMISSIONS CLOSED, VOTING UNDERWAY] Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Are there any results?


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## RespectTheBlade (Nov 15, 2010)

*Re: [SUBMISSIONS CLOSED, VOTING UNDERWAY] Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

I'll give it till the end of the week. I just want to be sure nobody else wants to vote.


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## RespectTheBlade (Nov 21, 2010)

*Re: [SUBMISSIONS CLOSED, VOTING UNDERWAY] Pokemon Creepypasta Contest*

Alright. I'd like this to end, so there are two winners. The winners of the writing contest and Verne, for his story Moon Garden, and Risingbadge, for his story Gastlyhauntergengar.

The winner of the art section is Big Red Cherry Bomb, for her art piece Mew.

Congrats to the winners, here are your Bragging Rights. Catch. *tosses*

MAy do this again next year, this one kinda failed. Thanks for the submissions, everyone!


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